


Losing

by Higgies230



Series: Mismatched Family [18]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Bipolar Disorder, Established Relationship, Good Parent Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Parent Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-12-07 20:00:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgies230/pseuds/Higgies230
Summary: None of them had seen it however until Ronan had come bursting down the stairs to tell his parents that his twin wouldn’t get up. Despite the meds that he had taken religiously since the beginning, Ian had bad days. He had days where the depression crushed him and he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. They all knew what that looked like, his husband, sister-in-law, siblings, his three eldest kids, they all knew. Ian hated that they knew but they did. So Ronan knew exactly what was happening to his brother.





	1. Discovery

  Ian couldn’t believe that he hadn’t seen it. Well, he knew logically it was because he hadn’t wanted it to happen. Neither he nor Mickey. Anyone really. It was a possibility that the redhead had purposefully pushed aside half a lifetime ago. Looking back however, he could see the signs, the one that he- everyone- had brushed off.

  The weird energy and ideas, the almost manic bursts of laughter. Every morning, their son had come prancing down the stairs, he would greet them all very happily, eat barely anything, sleep hardly at all. He was everything that Ian had first gone through a manic spell when he was pregnant for the first time.

  None of them had seen it however until Ronan had come bursting down the stairs to tell his parents that his twin wouldn’t get up. Despite the meds that he had taken religiously since the beginning, Ian had bad days. He had days where the depression crushed him and he couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. They all knew what that looked like, his husband, sister-in-law, siblings, his three eldest kids, they all knew. Ian hated that they knew but they did. So Ronan knew exactly what was happening to his brother.

  Ian and Mickey looked up in horror from their position on the sofa when Ronan shakily explained the predicament to them. There was a long moment of silence where the information was processed, Ian looked over at his husband, seeing his usually paler skin even whiter than ever. Manda was glancing wide eyed between her parents and older brother.

  “Alright, you two stay here and watch your sisters,” Mickey said, breaking the silence, gesturing at the two babies playing oblivious on the floor.

  Ian took the cue and pulled himself up from the sofa, following his husband’s lead. Their son nodded silently and made his way further into the room, sitting beside Zoey before pulling the baby into his lap, cuddling her close as if for comfort.

  The sight hurt and Ian quickly looked away, following Mickey up the stairs, down the hallway and stopping before the boys’ door. It was left ajar by Ronan and through it, in the dark, Ian could see the lump of his other son curled up in his bed, motionless except for his breath. Ian took a deep breath before he stepped forward, past Mickey, and carefully pushed the door open.

  The hinges creaked slightly but Alex didn’t move. The room was dark even though the sun had yet to set, the curtains drawn so only the most persistent of light made it through the fibres. The entire day Alex seemed tired, withdrawn. He had told them all that he was going to catch some sleep hours ago and when Ronan had come up to check on his twin he had seen it, seen the signs of the disease.

  “Alex? How are you feeling?” Ian asked tentatively. At least that got a response, if the opposite of what he was actually hoping for. His son buried deeper into the bedding, only a shock of red hair visible over the covers.

  It was then that he felt uncertain. He hadn’t had to deal with this in years. When Monica came around, falling into a depressive state, Ian had usually been the one to look after her. Lip and Fiona hadn’t the patience, Debbie, Carl and Liam were too young, Frank too drunk. But Monica had been dead for thirteen years now, passing before Manda was ever born and even before that it had been well before Ian’s diagnosis that he had last looked after her.

  Looking at Mickey though, he felt reassured. They both had experience with this, they could do this.

  Ian crawled onto the bed and sat next to his son who was facing away from him. Mickey came up and sat behind him, resting a hand on Ian’s thigh. Ian knew that this was as much for Mickey’s own comfort as it was for support.

  “Alex, do you know what’s going on?” Ian asked quietly.

  Alex knew Ian too, knew what it looked like when he was depressed. He probably knew what was going on. Maybe he was in denial, Ian knew he had been for a little while at first, the only thing that had pushed him to be better was his impending parenthood.

  “I’m like you,” came the whispered response. Alex’s voice was small and broken, barely there and it made Ian’s heart ache.

  Ian reached out a hand to place it on his son’s shoulder but the teen flinched away violently. The carrier pulled his hand away quickly and felt Mickey wrap an arm around him at the same time. He bit his lip almost violently, desperately trying to keep away the tears. This was his fault, it was his stupid genetics that had done this.

  “Probably, we’ll need to get you better and then get you checked, make sure okay,” Mickey told him, “this doesn’t have to be a problem Alex. Look at your dad okay, his life. It isn’t a problem. You may feel like complete shit right now but you need to remember that we all love you. Your dad and I, we love you so much. Your brother is your best friend, he would do anything to make sure that you are okay. Manda looks up to you, is in awe of the person that you are and those little twin girls can’t help but smile every time that you play with them. You have a hoard of uncles and aunts, you have friends. Everyone will be here for you no matter what okay? We’re here and we love you.”

  Ian could hear Alex’s breath hitch, he knew that he himself was tearing up at the words. His husband had whispered words of love and support into his ears on many occasions, whenever his disease was telling him to give up.

  “We’re going to leave you be now. Your brother will be in later for bed but we’ll make sure that he leaves you alone,” Mickey said after a moment.

  Slowly, the pair got off of the bed, careful not to jostle the boy lying there. The two of them retreated out of the room, Ian catching one last look at his son before Mickey was closing the door behind them.


	2. Blame

    Ian’s hands shook as his husband grabbed one, pulling him gently away from the bedroom door. The wood separating them from their most probably bipolar depressed son. The look that had been in those green eyes, the hopelessness, was all that Ian could think about. He knew how Alex was feeling right now, had gone through it himself many times and now he had gone and inflicted this curse on his own child. Another human being that had to live with his disease.

  Mickey was looking at him with concern as he turned and wrapped an arm around Ian’s shoulder, pulling him close to his chest. The redhead melted into the hug, suddenly only consumed with how this must be for Mickey. The man hadn’t been there when he had first been diagnosed with bipolar but he had been there ever since, looking after him when the meds failed. The man that had given so much- everything- for Ian and had cared and loved him unconditionally and now had to deal with a mentally ill husband and son.

  The redhead bit his tongue hard as he gripped onto the other’s shirt, he knew that he couldn’t cry now. They had to be strong, both of them. They had to be there for Alex.

  “Come on, got four kids downstairs to look after. Two probably scared shitless for him right now. Got to make them see that everything’ll be fine,” Mickey said, pulling back.

  Ian nodded, offering his husband a small smile- which was returned- before kissing him quickly and chastely. Mickey was paler than usual and Ian knew that he was struggling too but he had always been tougher than Ian, always coped with the hard stuff in a better way. Ian had taught him- or at least liked to think it was him- that showing emotion and acting on it was okay. Mickey was good at that after twelve years of marriage and seventeen of a solid relationship but he also knew when to hold back.

  The pair made their way downstairs to where their other children were sat in the lounge. Manda was sat crossed legged on the couch with Zoey on her lap while Ronan sat next to them with Ava. Both babies were sleeping in their older siblings’ arms, said siblings both looked up at their parents the instant that they walked in.

  Both men offered the children a small smile, it was getting late and Ian knew that they needed to but Zoey and Ava to bed but Manda and Ronan still had hours before they had to go up. In fact, Ronan didn’t have a bedtime to meet. Ian didn’t think he could last for hours though, not having to hold everything together.

  “Come, we’re going to put the girls to bed,” Mickey said.

  “Is Alex okay?” Ronan asked in reply.

  “Most probably depression Ro, part of the bipolar. When you go up to bed tonight just leave him be unless he talks to you or asks you for something okay. We’ll try and get some food and drink down him tomorrow,” Ian told him, stepping up and resting a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder. In truth, he was surprised at how calm and collected he sounded.

  “Um, if it’s okay, I think I’ll head up now, I just want to sleep and forget it for now,” Ronan said quietly.

  “Sure, Ro, of course you can go up,” Mickey replied softly.

  “Me too Dad, Pap,” Manda added.

  With that, Ian and Mickey picked the babies up from their older children, hugging and saying their goodnights to the two. Ian watched them walk up away, hearing the stairs creak as they disappeared, both moving with such resignation. What had he done?

  In his arms, Ava started to snuffle about, Zoey doing the same in Mickey’s. Great. Sighing, Ian led the march back up the stairs and into the nursery. His daughter was so warm and small in his arms, tiny fingers curling around his hand and head resting back against his chest sleepily. She was the image of her Papa, so sweet and Ian knew that one day she would be beautiful. Looking down, he could see a ball of innocence but perhaps one day she too would wake up in a depressive haze much like her older brother.

  Still sleepy, the two little girls went down easily, the babies sound asleep and peaceful in their cribs before long. It was once he no longer had the bundle to hold that the first tears slipped down his face. Imagining Zoey or Ava in the same way as Alex was right now. Manda and even Ronan could still develop the disease. He had five children, five whole human beings to have infected, to have ruined before they were even born. It was all because he was too selfish. Selfish to keep the both sets of twins, selfish to plan for Manda.

  No. He could not be without them, not a single one. If not for them then he wouldn’t have Mickey either, he wouldn’t have any of it down to their old shaggy dog. But was that in itself selfish? They had a life, these children. He had a life and it was wonderful even if he had this disease. But what would have happened if Mickey had had his children with someone that wasn’t genetically inept?

  “Stop it,” Mickey whispered in his ear.

  The man had come up behind him, wrapping his arms around Ian and resting his chin on the redhead’s shoulder.

  “Stop it.”

  Mickey led him away from the crib where he stood over Zoey’s sleeping form, he led him to the door, lead him through it, lead him back to their room. In a haze, Ian stripped down as Mickey did the same, falling into bed and curling around the ex-con.

  “Have you done Bear?” Ian asked then, thinking back to their dog.

  “Yeah did it while you were brooding,” Mickey smiled, his comment pulling a smile from Ian.

  Oh hell. He had just broken down and let Mickey take care of him when Mickey was probably in just as much turmoil as Ian. He was a terrible father, terrible husband.

  “I’m so sorry Mick, I really am,” Ian whispered brokenly into Mickey’s bare chest.

  “It’s okay Ian, it’s okay, we’ll get through this. Just promise me not to blame yourself, this isn’t your fault,” Mickey whispered in return.

  “I… Mick I can’t. I can’t help but think that.”

  “Would you rather Alex with bipolar, would you rather he be alive, have a chance, or would you rather not have him at all?” Mickey asked.

  “You know the answer Mick. You know but it still doesn’t make it easy,” Ian replied.

  “I know, but he has all of us. He has all the support and love he could hope for, he’ll be fine,” Mickey comforted.

  “Thank you Mick. You know, you don’t have to just hide what you’re feeling from me just because I’m upset.”

  Mickey smiled at that, small and sad but there. It made Ian’s heart ache.

  “I’m scared Ian. I’m scared for him, how he will deal with this. I know we can be there for him but only he can help himself and I’m just scared,” Mickey confessed, voice hoarse with emotion.

  Ian had nothing to say to that, all he could do was pull him closer.


	3. Everything Better

  Mickey was the best thing in the world. No exaggeration.

  Ian was a wreck, something that he was rather proud to have put a mask over- not that his husband couldn’t see through. He was a good father, he liked to think that he was a good father despite his genetics, and he carried on, looking after his children, going to work and supporting his husband. They were both old hands at looking after someone depressed in bed, Ian with his mother and Mickey with him. So that’s what they did.

  Ian would wake up earlier so that he could get the girls up and ready in time for the rest of the house to wake- an excuse really. He would hold the tiny, innocent girls close, cradle them and coo to them, make them smile. They were new and unspoiled, they may one day come to have his fucked up gene but that was years down the line. They hadn’t been corrupted by life, they couldn’t speak so couldn’t even swear, blank slates. Just what he needed right now.

  Ava was Mickey, his twins and even Manda held a far closer resemblance to their paternal father than him but Ava was the only one with her Papa’s colouring also. Zoey was him. He loved them both just as much, couldn’t ever have ever had a favourite child, but when it came to needing comfort cuddles he had to go to Ava. Logically he knew that just because she looked like Mickey didn’t mean she was safe but he needed something right now.

  In the quiet hours before the day started, Ian allowed his mask to fall away. He’d take one of his daughters- most often Ava- and hold her close. She would be sleepy, cuddly, she would snuggle into him and he could just breath in her sent. After a while though he would pull himself together and get on.

  Manda and Ronan would go off to school and that was the time that was when they would go up to Ronan. That was the time when Mickey became his hero. They were able to coax him into eating and drinking after a day, not risking giving him anything medicine wise for fear of making things worse. Mickey would sit beside the bed and talk to Alex like nothing was wrong, just as he did for Ian, while Ian sat close and supported whatever his husband was saying.

  Bathing him came after day two, Mickey helped carry him to the bathroom where they ran him a bath. The boy was so weak and it made Ian’s heart break, he knew that it couldn’t be much better- any better- for Mickey. Yet the man never cracked, he got on with it, laughing and joking like everything was normal

  After they had put him back to bed, Mickey would lead him back to their bedroom. They would curl up in bed until it was time for one or the other to go to work, making sure to cancel on days so that at least one of them was home. In those moments, they would curl together as close as humanly possible, not saying a word. Ian needed those moments like he needed air.

  Then the day came when Alex got out of bed. Both Mickey and Ian were off work that day- something that Ian would be eternally grateful for- but it was before Manda or Ronan were home. They had put the girls down for a nap some twenty minutes before, the house silent when the pair hear creaking from the floor above.

  Ian tensed, feeling the same reaction from his husband. But then their son was there. He looked exhausted but he was standing in the doorway and Ian cried. He felt the hot tears spilling down his cheeks even as he and Mickey stood to envelope their son in their arms.

  Ronan had been ever more emotional when he saw he brother curled up on the sofa that afternoon. The boy had fallen to his knees in front of his twin, wrapping his arms around his waist and crying into his lap. Alex had curled around him, clutching at Ronan’s shirt in a similar state.

  They all knew that Alex would have to go and get help but in the end, it was neither Mickey nor Ian who brought it up. The teen himself brought it up, wanting to go, wanting to get help, to get his life back on track. Ian had never been prouder and he knew that Mickey was the same.

  The day that they watched him walk into the ward was hard though, harder than Ian would have thought possible. The mess door closed and they watched him walk away, shaking and scared. Ian felt then like it wasn’t such a great idea to be doing this before remembering his experience all those years ago, in this very building while pregnant with his sons.

  “It’s for the best. We’re the best family he could have for this,” Mickey had muttered into his ear.

  It was forever but an instant before his boy was home again. They threw a party, Mandy flying in, Ian’s siblings, Kev, V and Iggy all there. Alex had smiled and joined in but had been tired, meds not fully adjusted. Ian knew how he felt and took pity, he and Mickey disbanding the group early so that the house could fall back into peace, so that Alex could sleep in his bed again.

  That night was the first that Ian slept without a tight chest and anxiety crushing him. As it turned out, Alex was a lot better at settling into the disease than Ian. A hell of a lot better at excepting it. He got back to school, he laughed and smiled. He was simply Alec.

  They hadn’t lost anything, none of them, with Alex sharing Ian’s condition. In fact, Ian would say that the whole process had only made them stronger. If the girls ever developed bipolar it wouldn’t be the end because everything would work out, Ian knew that now.


End file.
